


Hope

by lividcolors



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 03:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6783238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lividcolors/pseuds/lividcolors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam take Cas back to the bunker and then Dean and Cas talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

> So this is set up right after they expel Lucifer from Cas. It probably sucks, so, sorry.

     They take him to the bunker. He doesn't really know why, but he thinks they probably feel the need to keep an eye on him. He understands; he'd probably feel the need to keep an eye on him too, if it hadn't been him that had said yes to Lucifer. He thinks about all the Winchesters' have gone through because of Lucifer. Thinks of all the lives lost, of family and friends, because of Lucifer. Thinks of the apocalypse, of how it was prevented. Thinks of the years that Sam spent in Hell with Lucifer, being tortured by him. And he thinks about how  _ _he__ was the one that said yes. _He_ was the one that agreed to let Lucifer back on Earth, the thing that they had all worked so hard to fight against years ago. Of course it was him.

     He'd only wanted to help. He's so tired of being useless, of being a burden, and for once he just wanted to help. And he'd thought that saying yes could do that. That maybe Lucifer  _could_ stop Amara, he certainly had a better shot at it than any of them did. And when he had won, when Amara was finally gone, the Winchesters could have found a way to put him back in the cage. It might have been difficult, but they could do it. They'd done it before.  And Castiel? He'd have been gone. Maybe he'd be killed by Amara, maybe he'd be burned out by Lucifer, or maybe he'd eventually just be dragged back down to Hell with Lucifer. Either way, he would've been gone. It's what he'd been expecting.

      _This_ was not what he was expecting. He had been prepared and ready to die, but what he is not  prepared for is a trip to the bunker. He isn't sure what they're going to do with him, maybe lock him away or maybe even kill him, but he does not think he's ready for whatever it is.

     He's still thinking about it when he looks around and, to his surprise, finds himself already in the bunker. He doesn't remember getting out of the car, but at some point he must've because he is currently being half-carried, half-supported by Dean as he leads him through the bunkers numerous halls.  They eventually come to stop outside of a door, and Castiel is mildly surprised to find that it's not the door to the dungeon they've stopped outside of, but Dean's room. Dean looks back at him for a moment, eyes unreadable, before he opens the door and leads Cas  to his bed. Cas is carefully lowered onto it and then left to sit in confusion as Dean begins rifling through his clothes.

     While he's doing this, Sam walks into the room with a first-aide kit. Dean turns to him and takes the kit with a muttered thanks and turns back towards Castiel. He says, "Sammy, you find him some clothes to wear. I'm gonna check out his injuries." Sam nods and goes to Dean's clothes, apparently finding something for Castiel to wear. Dean pulls up a chair from his desk and sits in front of Cas. He grabs a wet cloth and begins gently cleaning off the blood crusted on his face. Castiel lets him do it, figuring it's best to just stay silent. He's caused enough trouble already.

     He stares at his hands and tries very hard not to look up. Dean is being gentle, so much more gentle than he deserves. He doesn't deserve kindness and gentle hands, he deserves harsh words and angry movements. He's failed. Again. It seems like that's all he ever does. How many times has he tried to fix a problem only to create twenty more? How many times has he tried to help, only to end up hurting in irreparable ways? He's done so much wrong by now; he doesn't think he'll ever be able to atone. Maybe it would be better if he were just out of the picture entirely.

     "Cas," Dean says, and only then does he realize he'd begun speaking out loud. Dean looks wounded, though Castiel doesn't understand why he would be.  "Cas," he says again, firmer this time. Dean squeezes his shoulder; he looks into Dean's eyes and, for a moment, he feels a little better, like things might be okay. But then Dean is sighing and going back to tending his wounds, and he is painfully reminded of everything that's between them. He looks back down at his hands. 

     Eventually Dean finishes fixing his injuries and helps him into a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt of Dean's that is soft and worn. He knows it to be one of Dean's favorites and briefly wonders why they would give him this one to wear. He decides not to think about it. And when Dean smiles when he sees him wearing it, a small, barely there smile but a smile nonetheless, he decides not to think about that either. And then Dean is tucking him in the bed, in  _his_ bed, and Castiel doesn't know why. The confusion must show on his face, because when Dean looks at him he sighs and sits on the edge of the bed.

     "Cas," he says, like that's all he needs to say. And maybe that used to be true, Castiel remembers when they used to have entire conversations without saying a single word, but it's not true now. He can't even figure out what the conversations that they have with words mean, nonetheless any conversations without words. There's just too much between them, after all of the lies and the betrayals, all of the pain they've caused one another, to ever really know what they're talking about. 

     This sentiment must show, too, because Dean sighs again, this time louder and even sadder. And then suddenly he's smiling, a small but genuine and reassuring thing, and then he's tentatively reaching his arms forward, giving Cas plenty of time to move away, and then Castiel finds himself wrapped in a hug from Dean Winchester. It's not the first, but he thinks that it may actually be the most unexpected, and suddenly Cas needs it. He closes his eyes and buries his face in Dean's shoulder, he fists his hands in Dean's jacket, and just stays there, trying to soak all of  _Dean_ in. Cas has missed this, has missed him so much.

     "I'm sorry," he says, because he thinks it needs saying. "I'm so sorry."

     "God, no Cas. Don't be sorry, not for this.  _I'm_ sorry. Just please-" Dean says, and his voice breaks. "It'll be okay Cas; we'll fix this. Don't worry," he says. Castiel wonders if he believes it, if he truly believes that they can fix it all, Amara and  Lucifer and just  _all_ of it. Catiel wonders if maybe Dean hates him for it, for having to clean up one of his mistakes, his messes, yet again. He wouldn't necessarily be surprised, but he thinks that if Dean ever actually said it, it might break him of any will power he has left.

     "I'm sorry," he says again, because now that he's said it, he feels like he should keep saying it. "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry," he says. Dean pulls back from the hug and looks at him. Cas stares at his hands once more, determined not to meet Dean's eyes, but Dean leans down and catches his eye, forcing him to meet his gaze. 

     "Cas, man, I just... why?" he asks. "Why would you do it? Why say yes? Why would you do it, Cas?"

     Castiel has to swallow past a large lump in his throat before he can answer. "I just wanted to help," he finally says. "I just wanted to be useful, to actually  _do_ something. I thought that maybe, if Lucifer had a vessel, he could beat Amara. I was just trying to help," he finishes lamely.

     "Cas that's not- you're not useless. Cas, you help all the friggin' time, man.  Seriously, the world? It'd be gone by now without you. All these people, everybody? They'd be dead without you. And you know what? I'd be long gone without you. Cas, man, I need you. And I don't mean that I need your powers. That's never been what I meant. Cas, I'd need you without the grace. I'd need you even if you weren't an angel. Hell, I'd need you even if all you ever did was just sit at the bunker all the time, even if you were useless in a damn fight," Dean says, and Castiel thinks that maybe he means it. He searches Dean's face, for any sort of indications that he's lying, that he doesn't really believe it, but he finds none.

     Dean takes a breath and continues,"Cas, it's- look, I just need you to know that," he breaks off frustratedly.  "Cas, when I say I need you, it's never because of what you have or what you can do for me, all right? When I say I need you, I only ever mean that I need  _you._ Just you." Castiel stares at him in amazement, and for a moment wonders if this isn't all just some pathetic dream he's conjured up in his head, but no, this is all too real to be a dream, the blanket underneath in his hand and Dean's hand on his shoulder. No, this is definitely real. 

     And then he remembers that this is where he should say something, and for a moment his mind is painfully blank before it's filled with words he wants to say. He wants to tell Dean that he needs him too, though he thinks that should be pretty obvious by now, he wants to say that his soul is the brightest he's ever had the pleasure of seeing, he wants to talk about it all, about everything, and mostly he wants to tell Dean that he loves him. But Dean looks tired, and he knows that he's tired, and he's not really sure that either of them could handle any of those confessions tonight. So instead he just smiles. It's small and harder to manage than it really should be, but it's still a smile. He says,"Thank you," like hat's all that he needs to say, and maybe it actually is, because Dean just nods and gives him a smile of his own.

     "You ready for bed?" Dean asks and Cas just nods and scoots over, pulling the covers back in what's clearly an invitation. Dean only lifts an eyebrow before he's giving him yet another smile, something to treasure, and getting into the bed. He turns off the light and for a moment they each just lay on their backs, all silence and odd spaces, before Dean is curling up behind him, a strong arm curling around his chest and Dean's nose buried in his hair. Cas melts into the embrace and closes his eyes. Things aren't completely fixed between them, and he's still not sure what they'll do about Amara and Lucifer, but with Dean drifting off behind him, laying in the dark on Dean's bed, Cas has hope for the first time in what feels like forever.

     

     


End file.
